Rolph didn't send him off to Kolb, Tor's new Knight, the instant they landed or anything. No Tor had to primp and practice first. Apparently that was important. An actual rule or something like it. Some royal thing that a kid from the backwoods wouldn’t know.
Like he’d go and visit without washing first?
The Prince had him bathe and dress in his nicest clothes, which were just school browns that didn't have any visible stains at the moment, then go to present the man with the official document the King had sent. It was in a sealed envelope, with the royal seal pressed into the wax on the back, so he didn't know what it said.
That kind of ate at him.
After all, it could be anything, and it directly related to him, didn’t it?
Hopefully it was something along the lines of, “Don't let him get too killed”, if he was lucky, and the King didn’t secretly have it out for him. On the good side, from what everyone had told him, being a Squire shouldn't be that big a deal outside of a time of war. Mainly training to fight, which he had to do for school under Kolb anyway, and some ceremonial stuff, which primarily had to do with carrying and caring for weapons and gear. The modern weapons and armor were all just tiny amulets and small metal bits, so Tor thought he could manage if he worked at it. Maybe add lifting tiny little weights to his daily regime to build up?
There was a speech he was supposed to give when he walked up to Kolb, so Rolph made him practice it several times before he left the room. Not that Tor would screw it up, but just so it would sound proper and everything. Hit the correct royal accent, instead of sounding like a merchant like he normally did when he spoke Noram standard.
Even though school didn't start again for a full day, Tor found the instructor working with some of the combat students, all giants of course, in the bright summer sun already. Special lessons for the advanced kids, probably. They were all good at least. Way better than he was, from what he could tell. Though it could be hard to tell, since they all just looked like anyone in front of them should die. It was intimidating, even from a distance. Tor waited for a lull in the efforts to approach. It was polite, plus, really, he didn't want to be killed by mistake, if one of them tripped or something.
Freaking giants. Always looming over properly sized people like him the way they did. Well, he was a little short, only five-four, which wasn’t tiny once you got out of the major cities, but wasn’t tall even for his home village of Two Bends.
Three vast students tried to eviscerate Kolb with swords all at once, the man struggling to hold his own the whole time. The combat students were good, about ten times better than Tor, at least, and while none of them could equal the head instructor alone, they worked together well, pressing the man into exhaustion, and then, finally, moving in for the “kill”.
Laughing Kolb surrendered and held his right hand up.
“Take a break and make sure to drink some water. This heat's bad enough without sunstroke.” He spied Tor and looked down at the splint on his leg, then at the paper in his hand, a nice cream colored envelope.
“Tor! You haven't crippled yourself for life have you? Come to resign?”
Tor shrugged with one shoulder.
“Nothing like that. I get the splint off in about a month. It got broken when I dove head first into a middens. Anyway…” Tor took a deep breath.
Kolb walked away, over to the water barrel.
“Walk with me then, or hobble as the case may be. Now, tell me why you were doing a damned fool thing like that? Head first into a middens? Some kind of a dare? A drunken bet? Not going to be a habit is it?”
The large man drank dipperfuls of water, one after the other. Since sweat was glistening on his skin, even in the dry heat, Tor guessed it was warranted. He was just glad that those three monsters weren't going to be coming after him like that any time soon. They stood drinking their own water, carefully not looking at Tor. That was fair. The combat students, even the lower level ones kind of thought of him as a joke, and everything considered, he probably was in their world. Too small to even be an interesting training partner, not a good enough fighter to challenge even the second year students most of the time, and right now no fun to even chase around trying to hit with a practice sword. “Hobble away!” wasn't a very good battle cry at all.
Unless he could incapacitate them with laughter?
Tor ignored them back for the moment, he'd come for a reason after all. Still, he couldn't just ignore the question asked either, not politely, so he tried to give a thumbnail sketch of the situation.
“Um, no, not a dare or anything. There were some kids that fell into an abandoned cesspit that had opened up. Dried and collapsed under its own weight. Everyone else was too big to reach them, so, you know, I climbed down and got them. It collapsed on us, so we had to be pulled out by the rope tied around my ankle, which given everything, broke. Anyway…” He took another deep breath, ready to go into the formal speech he'd practiced.
Kolb stopped drinking and stared at him.
“Did you… save the children?” The large man looked worried suddenly, and all the combat students stopped looking away and stepped closer to him, leaving him feeling a little surrounded.
“Um, yeah, they're fine, I got a shield on the boy, and when I saw the little girl I got her mine before the whole thing fell in on her. Then we got her out. I, um, used direct effect to uncover her. It was… kind of a combat rage thing…” Everyone stared at him for a few seconds, but no one questioned him on it. They were all royals, so they knew not to. It just wasn't polite. He was pretty obviously a commoner, only, of course, he wasn't. His claim to royalty was at least nearly as good as anyone there. So he had that to worry about too. If Tor got too mad, he could go all crazy and try to kill people. Kolb had to know. Even if he was just a regular student, not his Squire, since it might come up. Only so far, when it had happened, he didn't go all crazy. He just tried to save people. Even if he was mad. A little desperately he brushed at his black hair, trying to change the topic.
“Oh! I guess this could be important, if you toss someone an activated shield, it will surround them just fine. Well, if it connects with them at least. The little girl, she's four or so, she grabbed it, bless her. That saved her life. Anyway…”
One of the giants took off the practice helm, showing short cropped and sweat matted blond or really light brown hair underneath. To Tor’s surprise it was a girl, one that looked only a few years older than himself. Obviously a royal given that she must have been nearly six-eight. She didn't have the fine featured look that Trice, his fiancee, or the Queen had, so the size made her looks a little mannish. Not that Tor was going to tell her that. He wanted to live.
Besides, she probably thought he looked a bit feminine, being so small and delicate, so who was he to talk?
She spoke; looking worried herself, which was strange. They weren’t friends or anything, he barely recognized her to tell the truth.
“But… If you didn't have a shield, didn't all the… waste fall in on you?”
“Yeah. Not fun, I kind of built one around me, but it could only do so much, and the rope was already inside it. Sorry everyone, not trying to be rude here, but really, I have to…”
Kolb instructed him to run through a series of exercises, not letting him finish speaking, which he had everyone else watch carefully.
“Karen, give me your combat readiness analysis of Tor here, please.” Kolb called out bends and twists for Tor to try, and the girl made her assessments while everyone else looked on. They were pretty accurate, Tor noticed. He really was still tight on his whole left side and his muscle tone had suffered a bit in the last month. His endurance too probably, without his regular running, or really any other exercise.
“Well… I wouldn't want to send him back to the front lines, but he should be able to practice sword and knife work, energy weapons and shield and… Can you fly?” She asked, her voice sounding honestly interested.
That one he knew for sure at least.
“Yeah. That doesn't hurt at all. Even on long trips. I flew in this morning from Two Bends, um, my home village, which is about five hundred miles from here, give or take. No discomfort or anything. Kind of relaxing really, because it takes all the stress off my legs for a while. I recommend it if you ever get injured like this.”
“Oh! Heh…” The girl looked down a bit bashfully. “I was just asking if you knew how. I take it that's a yes then? So, flying work too?”
Kolb nodded.
“Right, so for the next month I'd like you to work with Tor on that, all of it. Karen's in charge of you for that time. These other two, Petra and Forne, will be your training partners if we can't find anyone closer to your size that can do it without killing you.”
“Alright. Sounds good, um, Kolb?” The man had started to walk away, back to the open exercise area. He turned and looked at Tor as if he hadn't realized that he'd been still trying to speak.
Tor waived the envelope in the air his voice going slightly exasperated.
“Sir Martin Kolbrin, I bring orders from King Richard of Noram. Would you receive them now?” That was all Tor had to actually say, it wasn't some huge or complex thing, but he had to work to hold the envelope out and not just cross his arms and tap his toes like an impatient farm wife waiting for the fresh loaves in the bakery. He managed it, mainly because he knew that being impatient didn't make the bread bake any faster and wouldn't make Kolb move either.
At least his eyes widened in slight shock, which was a little rewarding.
“Oh? Well why didn't you say so?” His voice was playful, indicating that he got that Tor had been cut off about a million times in the conversation at least, which probably meant they'd done it to him on purpose for some reason. To keep him from quitting? Like he had that option? A large hand took the delicate envelope and the seal, the King's own falcon on it in red wax impressed the man enough that he stood straighter.
Cracking the seal slowly he pulled the paper out gently, looking at everyone else warily. The combat students all held their breaths a little while the big man read. That was understandable, as it could be orders for anything, and the King probably didn't send party invitations like this.
“Oh-ho!” He called out suddenly, then kept reading, nodding after a bit. After about two minutes he placed the paper back in the envelope and set it down on the practice weapons table, holding it in place with a large lance or cutter. Tor could tell what it was if he picked it up, of course, even if he didn't recognize the sigil immediately. Anyone could learn to feel magical fields if they paid attention after all. Most people never bothered, just like they didn't bother to learn how to make their own. Then again, the same could be said about playing music, and Tor couldn't do that at all himself. He couldn't even sing, mostly.
To his surprise, instead of setting Tor instantly to work, or yelling at him to get out of the practice area, a huge hand slapped him on the back hard enough to stagger him a little.
“Tor here managed to get himself named a Knight Esquire! Skipped a whole rank, and only his age decided the matter. The King doesn’t want him to get a big head, even though he has his three marks of valor already. All since the last break too. Someone’s been busy.”
Kolb looked proud of him and for some reason so did the other students, even though he wasn't really one of them. They all took turns pounding him on the back, Petra taking pains to do it for the longest time he noticed, her dark skin shining with sweat. Karen, his new trainer for the next month, actually hugged him. It was a warrior’s hug, which nearly broke things in his chest, and was followed by a pounding on the back that seemed happy, but may have been a subtle assassination attempt. The girl picked him up into a second hug and turned to Kolb gleefully holding him off the ground the whole time.
“So, Squire… that pretty much means slave, right? And Knight Esquire, that means we can both boss him around and expect him to do it without complaint?”
Kolb grinned. “Pretty much.”
“And I get him for the whole next month?”
“Yep.”
The girl, a woman really, set him down and started doing a little dance that looked entirely too happy to Tor. Everyone laughed, so Tor wondered if it was all a joke or if, just possibly, Rolph and Count Thomson just didn't know what being a Squire actually entailed. He knew that neither one of them had ever held the position. He softly reminded them that he still had to get his school work done and had some projects to work on, and that on occasion, if possible, he would like to have at least a little sleep. If possible. Please. It must have looked pitiful, because they all laughed harder.
Kolb clapped him on the back.
“Don't worry Tor; we're just having you on. Congratulations by the way. Report here to Karen tomorrow afternoon, your normal time. She'll assign you tasks and what not as she sees fit. I know I don't have to give more instruction to you than that, so I won't.” Kolb smiled and for what was very nearly the first time Tor could remember it didn't leave him feeling like death was the natural next likely outcome after seeing such a thing.
With that he got sent back to his room, feeling well enough about the situation. At least Karen seemed nice so far. Sure, she'd probably beat him black and blue in the days to come, but that was only to be expected. She probably wouldn't be able to help it, not if she was going to make him work on sword fighting against her friends, which seemed to be the plan. Oh well. As long as they didn't cripple him permanently, he'd deal. Actually, he realized, he'd deal with it even if they did. It wasn't like he had a choice.
Rolph went with him to dinner, where they found, of all things, Dorgal Sorvee, Tor's favorite bully, his friend Marco, and the same guy with the creepy all black eyes that Tor had set Wensa on nearly two months before all sitting in the dining room. Across the room from them sat Wensa, her face blank and her eyes taking in Tor closely when he walked in.
They went to the food receiving window with their trays. The food was a simple roast foul, with potatoes and carrots on the side. Rolph tried to avoid the carrots, but Tor took some. After all, it was free food, right? There were no sweets served at the school, not even honey for bread in the morning, but Tor didn't mind overly. The food at the palace had been so rich that some good plain food seemed like a nice change.
Dorgal and Marco stared directly at Wensa, as if trying to intimidate her. Because, yeah, that would work. Cutting off her hands wouldn't intimidate the woman. Literally, he'd heard. She'd just accept the loss and move on, if the stories were correct. Royal Guards were trained to be like that from childhood and this one was tasked with the protection of the Heir. That probably meant she was even harder than the others, didn't it? Wensa stared at him and so did the other man, the older one with the all black eyes, who sat at the table next to Dorgal.
Tor pointed all this out to Rolph, who raised his shoulders slightly, a subtle movement that Tor almost missed. “Keep your eyes open then, and be ready to move if you have to. You have a shield?” He said this casually, taking a small bite of the chicken, using a knife and fork, like they did at the palace. Tor picked his up country fashion and took a bite, nodding a little himself.
Nothing happened after that, until the meal had almost ended, then Captain Wensa got up, still staring at Tor and made her way over. She actually ignored Rolph, except to tell him that she expected him in class early the next day for extra assignments. Before she left, her look going cold, she leaned over to Tor and whispered softly from about six inches away from his ear.
“I see you still haven't learned to protect yourself against poisons yet? You may want to rectify that. Soon.” Then the woman, lean and hard as he remembered her, steal gray hair pulled into a bun that looked uncomfortable to him, walked out without looking back.
Looking down at his mainly clean plate Tor blanched. Right. He'd kind of forgotten how much she hated him. Poison in the food then? Nice of her to warn him, but what could he do for that? He'd try to think of how to avoid it, but there were just too many different poisons to learn them all. He'd be better off trying to build a field that could recognize food, and tell him if anything thing else was there.
Which made sense.
How many different things did he eat on average? A hundred different things a week? If he broke it down into ingredients it was probably four times that. Compared to the ten thousand or more things that could kill him in food, it seemed easy to manage. He could make a limited feedback field; it was just a complicated version of the temperature control field. Those were rare, but easy enough now that he had the basic concept down. It would take a lot of work to build the whole thing right, but…
Yeah, that part would do what he wanted.
What he needed though was some way to signal him that there was something in the food that didn't belong. He knew what he'd want for that, a very bright light, something that couldn't be missed at all. The only problem there was that he didn't know how to make one. They existed, but he'd never gotten to hold one even. They were expensive, and the ones in the palace he'd seen where all placed out of reach high up on walls or the ceiling. That had been a stylistic thing, Tor figured, since they couldn't have possibly known that he'd be coming when the light features were built, years or possibly decades before.
He didn't sleep well that night, and had to skip breakfast the next day, just in case Wensa came after him. Rolph laughed and said that Wensa had just been yanking his chain, but Tor shook his head and refused to go anyway. Better hungry than dead, right?
The morning’s meditation was peaceful enough, easier for him now than before, what with all his copy work, which was mainly meditation anyway. Dorris the instructor nodded at him as he left, still refusing to speak, but seeming content about it at the same time. In his next class he just asked the instructor how to build a light field. It made sense to him, but Instructor Fines blinked at him as if he’d suggested they dine on another student later.
“Tor! This is novel building, not “copy other peoples work” class. But I'll give you a hint this once… Even though I shouldn't have to… Think about the nature of light. Examine it and reproduce the field. It's basically how everything is done in this class, in magical construction as a whole, and light is one of the most basic parts of reality. So, just since you asked… Have a light for me within three weeks, no fair using an already existing field as a template; I know you can do that. Bonus points if you have if for me faster than the deadline.” The man smiled as if he'd done him a favor.
His mind spun in place for the rest of the day. He skipped lunch as well, hunger starting to become slighting annoying. It wasn't so bad in a trance state, so he made a point of dropping as deeply as he could into his own mind and focus on everything going on around him, so he wouldn't walk into walls or something.
He'd have to make the whole thing that night. Somehow. He couldn't take the hunger otherwise, not and keep up with his schedule at all. Damn Wensa anyway. Why was she so bent on hurting him? He hadn't done anything to her had he? Well, OK, he had sort of told Dorgal and his friends she was a Royal Guard and her stomping over with weapons in hand had kind of confirmed it… But she'd started it. What could he do though, but try and survive?
Tor made a point of focusing even more deeply as he walked to the weapons practice area. The sunlight hit his skin, so he tried to capture the sense of it in the air, hoping that would be enough to distract him. It was amorphous, hard to find and gone instantly. How could he duplicate that? Or… well, did he have to really? He focused harder and stopped walking about ten feet from the stone wall of the practice court.
Light… it was already a field! That's why he couldn't find it, trying to sense it like something physical. Oh, it existed physically, but what made it work, that portion of it, Tor could simply get a feeling for like any manufactured field he wanted to copy. It wasn't too difficult to find, it was too easy. He snorted to himself. No wonder Fines had told him to just find it for himself. He felt a little stupid for having asked now. Well, lesson learned then, look for himself before bugging others or thinking something was hard before even trying.
Inside the practice court he sat down on the ground awkwardly just inside the gate, a little to the left of it near the stone wall and picked up a small stone, about the size of a gold coin. Could he capture the feeling well enough? He focused for about forty-five minutes before the rock in his hand finally started to glow, dimly at first, but then brighter, more so than the sunlight, then the sun in the sky itself. Then brighter still.
Suddenly it got too bright, so he threw the stone away, an instinctual and slightly panicked move. It was leaving spots in front of his eyes even with them closed. He could even follow the arc it took through the air, to the point it landed on the ground.
Right at the feet of two giants hitting each other with wooden weapons and wearing full armor it turned out. He wondered abstractly if they'd like some of the heat equalizing amulets. Maybe they'd accept that in exchange for not killing him? That padded practice armor had a point, he knew, since shields were rare, his kind of shield, but it looked incredibly hot right now. Both people had to turn away from the small rock, which had finally started to dim.
“Blind!” One of them cried, not in fear, just indicating that he couldn't see for some reason. The call was echoed by his opponent, Petra if Tor recognized the voice. Next to him saw a shadow, a little blind from the rock he'd made glow himself. It was a big shadow, but not one big enough to be Kolb, he didn't think so at least. When she spoke he got it instantly.
“Wow. That was effective. New battlefield weapon? Meant to leave the enemy blind?” Karen asked this in a soft voice, obviously trying to not call more attention to herself if possible. Probably to keep the other two from beating him to death for having attacked them out of turn.
“No, I was just trying to figure out how to make light. It worked. Um, yay? I have a new project to work on, and it's going to be a little useful to it. Plus I need it for a class, different project. Sorry!” He called out to the two still standing and not moving, still unable to see. Tor climbed to his feet and stood, his left leg hardly supporting his weight at all, since he'd sat on it funny, not even noticing that he was doing it in the working trance. He dusted the tan earth from his darker brown clothing making a soft cloud in the air.
Karen smiled and had him walk with her towards where the practice weapons were kept.
“So… I was thinking that since you can't run and that's what you normally practice doing, right? Since you can't do that, let's work pells and lifting stones for strength, then we'll do an intense sword and knife drill and maybe head out to the range so that we can practice there for a while.”
That would be different at least, since he'd never been out to the range before. Kolb didn't even let him practice with a bow and arrow, claiming that it would probably be wasted anyway, since no one used them any more to fight with and the aiming system for everything else was just so different.
Karen, it turned out, expected him to be some kind of weapons expert it seemed, and came at him like he was one of the combat giants. He barely managed to hold on and had to resist trying to run away at least three times. They fought first with knives, and then swords, standing face to face, without moving their feet at all. Without dodging it was a lot harder not to be killed by the girl than normal. Not the practice kind of killed, the actual dying kind. She didn't hit him in the leg at least. Just everywhere else.
“Now, it's about three miles to the range, I don't know if we can get a wagon out, so… do you think you can walk it?”
Uhg. He could, Tor was pretty sure, but it would ache. The three miles out wouldn't be so bad, but coming back, that would not be fun. He told her this, hoping she wouldn't just think he was a wimp. He smiled. Really that should be, he hoped she didn't think he was more of a wimp. She probably had his measure pretty well already after all.
“Oh… Well, I suppose we could fly, but we'd have to check the gear out and it's all booked for the day, so, since that's not an option I guess we should cancel that. Too bad, because I really wanted to get your take on the state of our practice weapons. Maybe soon?” She didn't seem that put out at least and didn't punish him with a lot of extra work, though she did ask him to walk to his dorm and back as many times as he could without hurting himself, to help build his injured leg back up.
Tor didn't bother with dinner after that, it was still mid-afternoon when he couldn't comfortably walk anymore, so he started working on the poison testing device before he could collapse from hunger. The light turned out to be the simple part, now that he understood it, adding in the proper fields for all the foods he ate was harder. Not that they weren't familiar to him, he ate them after all, so it wasn't that difficult to remember.
No the hard part was holding all the fields at once, in the end he had to do them in a cascading style, adding one to another and into much larger sub-fields that he used for the final make. It took all night and most of the next day. And then the day after that.
Someone fed him something, which he hoped wasn't poisoned, and they gave him water to drink. Right. He added water to the list of things, then juices and cow’s milk, goat’s milk and struggling to remember what it was like from the few sips he'd ever had, wine and hard cider.
The complexity of the field was huge compared to what he'd ever done before. The power levels needed were small, but there was just so much to focus on. It wasn't enough just to know food, he had to separate the plates and cups, from things that could be used to harm a person as well. Plus hundreds of other things, including just a sense that something might be unbalanced in a food item. Or around it. Diseased food too.
Finally after a long time, the days not making any impression on him anymore, he opened his eyes. Tor was alone, and it was morning. He thought. It was light outside at least. He stood, barely making it to his feet, legs almost not able to hold him up.
How long had he been out? Longer than five or six days at least. He knew what that felt like, having done it before a couple of times now.
Tor didn't make it to the door before it opened and Rolph came in with Kolb and the nice older man with the beard he'd seen before. He looked at them and smiled.
“Hey.” His voice croaked. Tor had to clear it for a while, and drink some water, before it just sounded like a frog lived in there.
“Wow, how long was I working?” He almost apologized for not greeting everyone properly first, but Rolph answered before he could say anything else.
“Eleven days! I'd thought you were just working on something at first, I mean I could see the template in your hand and all, I get what that means, but then you just didn't move. Two days ago you stopped even drinking water, so Trice and I decided we had to get help. I don't know what that is, but is the latest diaper rash treatment or whatever really worth all this?” The look on Rolph's face was stern and more than a little worried.
Eleven days.
Gods. No wonder he couldn't speak. Worse Karen would probably kill him when he went back. Kolb looked worried too, but the girl had been put in charge of his training, and as far as everyone else could tell her new trainee had run away after only one day. He decided to distract them all, if he could. He held up the template, one made in wood, with lines written over both the front and the back of it in tiny script. It was twice the size of the normal wooden planks he got, because he'd found the first two he tried weren't big enough for everything he needed to write down.
He pointed at it.
“Testing device for food, to tell if it's poisoned. It should tell us if there's anything in the food that doesn't belong.” Holding up his hand he grinned tiredly. “Yes, that includes exotic spices and foods that I just haven't encountered… But also poisons, inert materials, and so on. I need to test it, but I don't know how…”
The older man whose name he'd never even heard stroked his beard slightly. “I think I can arrange for that. You… Probably need food, water and sleep first though. Let's say tomorrow at noon? That gives you nearly a full day to recuperate. Do you think that's enough?” The voice sounded like the man was truly concerned about Tor's health and well being.
Nice of him.
Tor nodded and laid back to go to sleep before anyone even left the room. A while later he was woken up by hard punches on his right arm. They hurt, and didn't stop, so he opened his eyes. Trice sat next to him crying, and kept hitting him.
“Don't… ever… do that again! We thought you were dead… or going to die soon anyway! Promise me you won't do this kind of thing anymore!” She looked scared, really scared. Rolph handed him some bread and cheese.
“Bought it in town from a randomly selected shop I've never gone into before. Next we'll send someone else for food, if you need more. I got a lot…” He turned to Trice and shook his head, but gave her a half hug.
“Trice, don't ask him not to do things he may have too. Just…” Rolph turned to Tor and held his gaze. “Just promise that you'll be more careful and try not to die? If you're going to try impossible things, couldn't you at least let us all know first?”
That, he told them, would be doable, he just hadn't realized how hard this one was going to be at all. It was so complex that he wasn't even sure it would work. That earned him a punch in the chest from Trice.
Hard.
Tor rubbed at it gently while she spoke, figuring that it was going to bruise for certain.
“Oh, it'll work. If you scared me like that for nothing, then the weddings off, because they'll never find your body!” She growled this at him in a way that made him swallow hard and blanch a little.
OK, so it would work. Or else. He could get behind that. Casually he tried to work his way over to his shield, which sat on the table next to the bed.
Rolph laughed, getting what he was trying for, and made him eat as much food as Tor thought he could without getting sick, which wasn't much after the long fast and then slowly sip cool water until he fell back to sleep. When he woke it was black outside, so he lay there for a while, not wanting to turn on a light. Eventually, board and stiff, he decided to make some copies of the field into metal.
They copied fast. Almost too easily, given all the work he'd had to do originally. The copper pieces he'd gotten for it were about the shape and size of his little finger. Each had a tiny sigil on it already, just a mark he'd cut into each with the little cutter that he still had from when he built the first shield. It made a groove that should work well enough as an activation focus.
A tiny area of extra shiny copper on each piece, he thought it looked nice. Not glorious or stunning in any way, but clear and easy to use. That counted, right? This was just for him and, if it worked, his friends. It wasn't like most people had to fear being poisoned by Wensa after all. They probably should, but if they didn't know her, that might give most people a little protection at least. Even she wouldn't just break into homes at random to get people.
Would she?
Tor could feel the fields on the metal, or else he would have thought he'd just screwed up and it hadn't worked. After that, tired as he was, he got up and ate some more. Yellow cheese and half stale bread, but it tasted surprisingly good for all that. There was even some dried fruit. The real kind, slow dried in the sun, not magically. Chewy apple slices that felt velvety to the tongue.
So, all Tor had to do now was go to each class, beg forgiveness for missing, and pray that Karen would decide that murder was too harsh a punishment. Tor thought for a second… Maybe he could bribe her with gifts? She'd mentioned not having flying gear yet, and he'd brought extra back with him, the new version even, and a shield? It wasn't much, but maybe it would distract her from being too angry with him? If she hadn't just written him off already and moved on to the next thing.
Dorris took his return with aplomb, of course, and simply indicated that he should sit with a hand gesture and that small half smile she almost always wore. After class he explained that he'd spent eleven days straight working and she bowed slightly, then sent him on his way with a tiny smile and another small wave towards the door. The novel build instructor, Fines gave him a long look and told him that his project was due soon.
“Oh, the light! I figured that out the same day, it took about an hour, so I kind of forgot about it and moved on to harder things. I'll bring something in tomorrow…” The man smiled and waved his hand.
“Oh, don't worry about it, what did you come up with that was so important you missed class for two weeks?” His voice made it clear that he trusted totally that Tor hadn't just been skipping at least. That was heartening.
The man seemed impressed, in a reserved fashion. He wanted to wait for it to actually work or fail before passing judgment. That was kind of him too, since Tor had no clue if it was even really possible. It did have a light incorporated, he let the man know, which earned a smile and a promise of a good grade if the whole thing worked. That would count as a light well enough, unless it was inferior in some way, the man assured him with a serious smile.
His other classes went about the same, much to his relief. He had to apologize and grovel a bit, but no one suggested he leave school over it yet. Tor went back to his room for lunch, ravenous already, even though he'd eaten just a few hours, five, before. Half way to the room, in the center of the cobblestone commons Trice and Sara found him.
The blond girl smiled at him, seeming friendly, but Trice stood facing partially away, refusing to make eye contact. She crossed her arms and huffed.
“Ready for the test? If you die, I swear I'm never talking to you again.” The words were funny, but the tone was so serious no one even chuckled. She sounded ready to cry.
Tor wasn't really ready; he had to grab the fields from the room. With a bit of math he decided to take half the metal pieces and the big wooden template. That would leave him enough for his friends if the others were needed for testing. Taking a deep breath, he walked out, not knowing where they were going at all. No one had given him a location for it.
Sara patted him on the back, her hand lingering for about fifteen seconds. Trice didn't react to it, so Tor figured it wasn't outside of what was proper really. Finally the pretty blond spoke.
“Oh, it's in our dining hall. You get to have lunch with us today…” Sara looked at him and winked.
It made sense that they ate daily, he'd seen them do it after all, but he hadn't been aware that they had a dining hall like his section had. The buildings were smaller, and set back from the rest of the school enough that no one would have ever gone into one by mistake. The walk wasn't that long, even if they had to walk at his pace, which still kind of limped along. Tor almost wished he had something better than browns to wear, since the girls both wore blacks, and really nice ones at that, made of fine, airy materials. Meant to keep them cool in the late summer heat? Neither looked hot, no sweat or anything, so they probably wore their amulets for that. He did. Otherwise even the school would have been too warm for him. Never the blistering heat of the Capital, but hot enough to annoy and make him damp in all the wrong places.
The room they took him in to was filled with people. Most in black but a few in much livelier colors, some of the girls in pretty dresses even. Many of them ate already, which made him more than a little hungry in response. The food smelled really good too. Maybe not palace level good, but at least two or three times better than what they got at the other dining facility across campus. At the front of the room the older bearded man, wearing a large, well draped black velvet coat, a bright green shirt under that and a red floppy hat, along with black trousers made of something that Tor couldn't identify and didn't bother trying too, watched him enter.
“Ah! Mr. Baker. Just the man. Please, come and join us.” The voice was warm and he gestured regally enough that the move wouldn't have been amiss in the palace itself.
As he got to the table he saw that it held plates of food, each dish was different, some obviously things he'd never encountered before. A few looked like raw meat, and one of them seemed to still be alive in a glass of water. An eel? He'd heard of them but had never seen one. Did people really eat those? Alive? Eek. It didn't look very good to him. It slithered in the clear glass, a grayish black that shone even in the water, making it look slick and slimy.
“The test is a simple one. Use your device on this food and find what's poisoned before we eat. Begin as you will. I don't know how the device might work. Do you need anything in particular, or a special condition for the food?”
Pulling one of the little copper rectangles from his belt he activated it with his thumb and just moved towards the food. He went slowly at first, not knowing if anything would happen at all. Most of the people in the room, students mainly, but a few older people, including servants, watched with a bored quality. Maybe they saw things like this all the time? As he approached a plate with mashed potatoes, gravy and beef slices the device in his hand lit up.
It didn't glow itself, instead, as he'd intended, the space around the hand holding the device glowed with a golden light so bright that it was kind of hard to look at. Tor wanted to make sure that the signal never got missed by mistake after all. If you sat in direct sunlight, it would be clearly visible. Good. He moved over the beef, holding the copper close to it, nearly touching, but the unit stopped responding, it was obviously the mashed potatoes then. Or the gravy. Either way, he wasn't going to eat it.
“I can't tell which part in particular is poisoned though, unless I separated them somehow, is that required for the test? I think it would make a bit of a mess and I don’t really want to touch poison, if I can help it.”
The older man smiled and shook his head, “No, I think knowing what not to consume is enough for now. Good to know it could be used to do that though. Knowing which part of a dish is tainted could help lead to who had access to the food for investigations. Please, continue.”
The next two plates were fine, but then he got to a fish dish that lit up. Again it had a sauce, this one some kind of fruit based thing. The eel, however unlikely that was, didn't make the device glow at all. Gross, but apparently it could be eaten and was even close enough to things he ate regularly to count as nutritious and wholesome. In all he found five plates of food that had been poisoned. The man nodded and clapped.
“Very good! One last test then…” The man clapped and a simple pot pie came out. The man indicated it with his head, telling Tor to test it.
Nothing happened.
Until he started to take the device away and it crossed the side of the ceramic baking dish. It obviously wasn't food, but the dish itself made the air light up. He didn't understand it, but Trice did.
“Poison on the dish? So that if you touch it and then put your hands to your mouth…” She pantomimed the action, getting a glowing look from the man. He actually clapped his hands.
“Indeed. Exactly right Patricia. I would say your device is a ringing success. I'd like to test it further, if I could borrow it? Or… do you have more than one again?” The man seemed excited for some reason.
“Oh, yeah, ten right now, five on me, so here, take this one.” He handed over the one tested, and the man got the girls to help him open a large wooden case that had glass jars inside, powders and liquids. Were they all poisons? The answer came pretty quickly, when one after the other, they all were all opened, corks popped and stoppers breached, only to make the new device cause the air to glow with what looked like very bright sunlight.
The old man suggested that Tor get something to eat. That sounded like a wonderful idea, since his stomach growled at him a little. Not so loud as to be embarrassing though, thankfully. After testing one of the plates of food in front of him again, just to be sure he hadn’t missed anything, a fish dish with a white cream sauce that came with braised asparagus, he did. That, even more than the testing itself, seemed to get attention. Was the fish not good here? It tasted fine. Better than that, really good in fact. They used slivered almonds in the sauce, Tor thought, which gave it a little texture. Trice looked at him wide eyed and then smiled. She held the device that the old man was testing and Sara put the poisons back in the case carefully, making sure she didn't touch anything else with her hands.
Tor got that; a simple sneeze could spread deadly poison around the room. I occurred to him that playing with poisons in the dining hall might be just a little dangerous, but no one blinked overly at it. Whatever else these people were, they weren't cowards at least.
So, probably insane? Good to know.
Just as they were finishing a man who looked to be a few years older than Tor walked over, obviously someone special, if based only on height. The guy was about six-four or five, so a short royal, for a guy, or one of the merchant class? Hard to tell without just asking. He eyed Tor with a smile, but didn't approach directly, heading to the older man instead.
“Dean Hardgrove?” The words made Tor stop eating. “These devices… Would they be available for purchase or lease soon do you think? My parents have gotten into a bit of a pickle with the Count and Countess Ward and it would be… good if I didn't have to become a Baron in the next few weeks, I think.”
Two things popped out at Tor, first, that the old guy he'd seen several times was the Dean. Thank all gods he'd always been polite to the man. Not that he wouldn't be normally, but some of the situations he'd met him in had been stressful. Tor hadn't always been at his best at those times, had he? For that matter, Tor reflected, the guy had always been exceptionally nice to him, the son of a humble baker from Two Bends. It made Tor rather like him, since as far as he could tell, the man treated him just as well as he did everyone else, and that standard was high.
The second thing was the man announcing that the Count and Countess of Ward were being a problem for his people.
Them again. Not his favorite people personally at the moment.
He reached into his pocket and pulled two of the poison detectors and held them out to the man.
“Here you go. Let me know if you need more of them. No wait…” He pulled another from his pocket and handed it over too. The last he had with him other than his own. “Just in case they come after you too.”
Trice walked over and gave him a hug, which he took to mean it was a good move. She didn't kiss him, but then being around all these poisons, who could blame her? Also, it was the public dining hall of her school, in front of her friends and peers, so that could be the reason too. That she even hugged him here made him feel special. She didn't have to after all. At school she didn't really have to keep the fiction that their marriage plans were real after all. For that matter, since it was a noble arranged marriage thing she didn't even have to with her parents. They'd be all right with the idea of her marrying him as a business deal type thing, right? So was the hug real?
Tor decided to pretend it was, regardless. He got little enough attention from women; this tiny bit was a luxury. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
The man in front of him stood straighter. He had a smile on his face, but also looked baffled at the same time.
“Oh! Yes, these would be lovely for my parents, but how much? I can have funds sent if it’s more than I have on hand… This is definitely worth whatever is asked.”
Sara started asking questions of Tor her voice serious and low, Dean Hardgrove listened as well, his head nodding along with what she said. “Tor, how long did these take to make, the original template I mean?”
It was a leading question of course, because she obviously knew the answer. She'd been on Tor watch duty more than once he'd been told and had done some things to care for him that made him blush when he thought of it, so it wasn't anything casual. She knew and just nodded when he said eleven days out loud.
“And you nearly died making them, why did it take so long?” Her voice was curious and everyone had moved in to listen, actually gathering around the table. He tried to keep his explanation short and simple, explaining that it was just a complex subject, so the field took a lot of time to build in order to be comprehensive. That was all really.
After about five minutes of this Sara shrugged and turned to the man.
“About two thousand gold. Each. That price is the one for friends here. I wouldn’t expect it to last once they go into manufacturing.”
The man didn't even blink. No one else did either, not even the Dean. Two thousand gold? That seemed high. High enough that Tor felt uneasy holding on to the one in his pocket for a second, before realizing that the price didn't really apply to him. Or the man in front of him come to that. Not if his family was going up against Ward. That guy… annoyed Tor. The whole getting Ursala pregnant thing still rankled a little when he thought about it, and then his trying to sleep with Varley hot on the heels of that… Sure, the Count wasn't exactly bright, but Maria should have coached him not to go after the Princess just then, shouldn't she? Not that he felt any great love for Maria either, but… Well, he wasn't going to hold what she'd done at fourteen against her forever. Maybe she'd fixed herself already even? People could change, if they tried.
The man started to speak about arranging the funds, catching Sara's attention and a few of the other students, for some reason. Tor shook his head, and took the last bite of the fish dish, making an effort not to scrape the delicious sauce up with the side of the silver fork. Real silver too. Everything here was nicer than what they had at the other school. Probably because that one housed the rabble, fighters, scholarship kids and… The Prince. At least one full Count too.
That made sense though. A lot of royals had their kids over there too. Was that too keep them from getting too full of themselves? Heh. The idea that some of the nobles where that smart impressed him suddenly.
“Oh, those are gifts… For your parents and you. Really, let me know if you need anything else. I won't let my friends be harmed. Not if it’s within my ability to stop.” He couldn't explain why, not in public, because that would have compromised Ursala, and Tor wouldn't do that, which could have made things difficult to explain if a small gasp hadn't gone up around the room. That distracted everyone nicely.
Leaning in to him Trice grinned and spoke so close to his ear that it had to look like she was kissing it. “Oooohh. Now you've done it. Almost everyone wants one of those, and here you are just giving them away!” Her chuckle sounded warm enough, not like she was angry or anything. Was being poisoned really that big of a fear with the rich types?
Well, he'd seen firsthand how everyone at various court functions had reacted when he ate out of turn. At the time he'd kind of thought that was just about his breaking protocol, but if it was really that big of a problem… Well, if it was, he'd take living as a village baker. No one had ever tried to poison anyone in Two Bends.
In his lifetime, two people had been knifed, and one of them died. Both those were the same fight, but that was all as far as serious violence even. For the most part people just discussed things if they had a problem, or got Tom the Mayor to settle it. Looking at the empty plate in front of him he noticed how nice it was. Fine china, not earthenware like he was used to at home or even the other dining hall. Oh well, if he broke one of those plates he could at least afford to pay for it, this thing in front of him would be costly if dropped.
Looking around at the eager faces he made up his mind.
“Alright,” his voice was soft, but everyone suddenly quieted down to listen as if it was important or something. “I need to rest for a bit and get caught up on my actual school work, so I don't get kicked out. So far they've been really nice about everything, but Kolb's going to have my behind if I don't get back to regular practice and so will Karen. Also I can't keep pushing the Dean like this, not going to classes for weeks at a time… everyone gets that, right?”
Behind him the Dean chuckled, but didn't comment. Hopefully that meant he hadn't decided to kick him out already. It sounded like a friendly laugh at least. Tor tried to smile at the man over his shoulder a bit, encouraging him to stay friendly. Patricia chuckled a little as well and squeezed his shoulder again.
“But after that I'll start making batches up for everyone here.”
The crowd smiled a little, everyone seeming, if not excited then at least pleased. Good, he didn't want anyone to feel left out or anything, even if he didn't know them personally.
“Sara, would you start a list? I think… First come first serve? Um, not to seem greedy or anything, but this is only for the students and… the faculty here.” He looked around and noticed the servants as well, one or two looked disappointed. “Well… anyone that works here at the school. But it would be too much work to make one for every extended family member, you know? So, one apiece, at least for the free ones? I'll send the template off to Debri after that, or, I don't know, maybe make some up for regular sale, since, you know, the shields and flying gear are taking up most of the manufacturing set up there right now. Is that OK? If anyone has a pressing need back home, please talk to Sara about it and I'll make sure things are taken care of faster those people.”
Trice went white, probably realizing that they could have sold a huge amount of those even at the school or to peoples parents at least. That or she worried that he'd work himself too hard, which was kind of her if that was the worry. He squeezed her hand a little, since it hadn't left his shoulder. He looked at her with small smile then the Dean as an afterthought.
“Don't worry. These will come slow and are only copies; I won't push myself too hard or anything. Or miss classes for it.” It got the girl to nod at him at least, even if she didn't look exactly convinced yet.
The Dean told him that this section had about thirty students in all, but that the total for the whole school was about three hundred, if the offer wasn't just for the special school students. Then nearly a hundred instructors and staff. So four hundred of the devices in all? Tor could do that. Really, it should only take him about a month, even going slow, since the template passed fields so easily, but he didn't mention that out loud. After all, when Karen got done with him, he may not be able to do anything for the rest of the month.
At the thought he sighed and stood.
“Right. Now though, I have to go and take a beating from a combat giant. It's deserved, for missing all the lessons I have, but that won't make it hurt any less.” He looked downcast on purpose and shook his head mournfully.
Everyone in the room laughed and more than a few patted him on the back on the way out. Yeah, he could see some of them commiserating with him on that score. They were mainly smaller people too, compared to the shield bashers that they had to practice with sometimes. Sara stayed to make up that list and managed to get the Dean to sit beside her, which should keep everyone polite enough.
When he walked out Trice looked back wistfully.
“God, I should have grabbed that list first! Oh well, I can wait a few weeks or months even. Right now no one’s probably trying to poison me personally.”
He made a face at her and snorted.
“Right, like you, Rolph and Sara aren't getting yours before dinner? Tovey too. I kept the ones for you in my room. For that matter I need to send some off to everyone’s families as well. Um… well, you aren't mad at me though are you? I know that this is a lot of gold to just give away, but…”
She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him just as they reached the commons. It was a good kiss, one that lasted long enough that someone passing by, another student even, coughed loudly, which made them both laugh.
“You're kidding, right? From childhood on every noble is taught to worry about being poisoned, to follow protocol and actually examine our food for anything that might hurt us. Extra grittiness, a strange flavor or color, anything.” She made eye contact; the blue of her eyes looked clear today, almost crystalline somehow. Like some of the gems on the walls of the palace.
“When you ate the fish with white sauce off the testing table… that really won them over. It showed how confident you were in what you'd made. I thought a couple of people were going to pass out from fright honestly.”
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him gently into walking.
“But to answer your question, no. I wouldn't be mad over something like this. School is ninety percent about gaining new contacts when you're a noble like we are. You just won over almost everyone here. Yesterday you were the guy that made stuff they had to fight to get, and probably couldn't, even if they had the golds. Today you're their friend that cares about them enough to see to their personal protection, even at great personal cost. Doing it this way is brilliant too. No one will think you’re trying to curry favor with them in particular, so it just makes you seem… You know, I don’t even have a word for it, but it’s good. Every time they eat for years they'll think about their buddy Tor standing between them and death. I wouldn't have suggested it…because I just wouldn't have thought of it really. Of course your offer will include some people you aren't overly fond of… unless you want to snub them? Dorgal for instance?”
That idea made Tor happy, for about half a second, then he just sighed and shook his head.
“I don't like Dorgal. He's a bully and not overly bright, at least not that I've ever seen. But I don't want him to be poisoned, or anything, either. I don't know if he'd want anything made by me, but the offers there for him too.” That had to be done, didn't it? Dorgal wasn't his friend, but someday they'd all be adults and he wouldn't want an enemy if he could help it. Especially if he ended up with the guy as an in-law or something. For that matter he needed to make sure and send some of the devices off to Meredith Sorvee and her family too.
Even if he was trying to get out of it, she'd offered to marry him. No matter her reasoning, that was kind. Tor needed to make sure she knew that he appreciated the gesture.
They walked the rest of the way back to the room slowly, but in silence. Inside the room Tor started pulling out field amulets and handed two of the poison detectors to Trice, one hers, the other for Sara. He set two more aside and loaded up a cloth sack with some of the other fields he'd brought back from vacation with him.
“What's this?” Trice pointed at what he held in his hand.
“Oh, well, I made up about twenty flying rigs and new shields just for the school and about that many of the temperature equalizing fields. Those guys in practice armor roast this time of year. It's really bad. Then I added a few more, because, you know, I need to personally bribe Karen and the others into not killing me. I missed eleven days without giving any notice. Kind of surprised Kolb is even letting me come back, to tell the truth. It's probably just so Karen can give me a good thrashing before he kicks me out of his section. I can't really blame him, but, you know… bribes. So maybe?” He shook the bag a little, holding it up hopefully.
Trice started kissing him again which ended up with him laying on his back, her on top of him for a few seconds before she relented and told him to get off to weapons practice before they decided to kill her fiancee for real. He didn't exactly run to the weapons practice area, not being able too, but he walked quickly. He really didn't want to be too late after all. Eleven days was late enough.
When he got there Karen was working with another person, both in well fitted practice armor, so probably their own, which meant they had money to spend on luxuries like that. She called out instructions, but not nearly as many as she used the one time she'd worked with him. That made sense; the smaller form in front of her was nearly as good as she was. The moves weren't quiet as clean maybe, and the reach not as long, but the blows hit almost one for one between the two. Tor had only tapped the larger woman about once every four or five hits she'd made on him, and most of those simply lacked the needed power, if he was going to judge himself honestly.
This went on for a while, so Tor watched, trying to pick up pointers. After all, he'd probably have to work with one or both of them in the future. Their fighting style was very similar, like they'd had the same teachers, or practiced together a lot, maybe both. More, Tor realized, that instruction hadn't come from Kolb. They aimed for the head and body most often, but in a general way, not specific weak points in the armor for instance. Kolb stressed hitting weak points if possible and growled if you didn't get close enough. Maybe more with him than the others, because he was so small and needed the advantage, but Tor had heard him telling everyone similar things.
After about ten minutes Karen had knocked the smaller form down with a shoulder thrust and started beating him while on the ground.
“Get up! If you go down like that for real he'll kill you. Get up!
The thrashing didn't stop.